


My Little Angelic Amigo

by PetrichorPerfume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: And carry fake arrows instead of swords, And whose mission is to provide loving companionship to a select few chosen humans, Angels, Castiel Loves Bees, Castiel Loves Dean, Dean doesn't believe in angels, Dean isn't a troll, Fluff, Gen, In which angels are cute and fluffy, No matter what Samandriel says, Pointless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 08:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2422208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a sweet little fledgling with fluffy white wings, a glowing halo, a sweet smile and loving disposition. Then he gets his assignment - a man by the name of Dean Winchester, who doesn't believe in angels - and he turns into a little ball of fluffy, glowing misery. </p>
<p>Thankfully, his nest mates Gabriel and Samandriel have a plan to make Dean love him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean Winchester doesn’t believe in angels. Sure, he’s heard the rumors – legends might be the more appropriate word; Sam would know – and the myths. Who _hasn’t_ heard the stories about puffy little balls of light and goodness coming down from the sky and spreading joy and wonder wherever they tread? To Dean, those stories are just that – creative little works of fiction interspersed with a touch of mediocre editing to create news stories and ‘true videos’ showcasing little orbs of light that some douche bag with a camera phone just happened to capture at the very edge of his travel vlog.

 

And sure, maybe he’s been guilty of spending some spare moments thinking about how awesome it would be if he found himself a cute little angelic friend. And, yeah, okay, he’s had one or two interesting dreams about what would happen if a tiny winged man showed up in his life out of the blue. And so what if he’s already cemented the image of his perfect angel in his mind’s eye, so much so that he commissioned three different portraits to be made of the being he kept seeing out of the corner of his eye?

 

Angels aren’t real.

 

***

 

 _Today is the day,_ he thinks. _It’s finally here! Oh, but what if it goes wrong? What if my assignment hasn’t been born yet? What if they’re old? What if they’re mean? What if they don’t believe in angels?_

 

“Cas!” A voice breaks through his frantic thoughts, but he ignores it. _If he doesn’t believe in angels, then he can’t see my wings!_ “Cas!” _And if he can’t see my wings, we can’t live happily ever after!_ “Cas, you’re up next,” Samandriel barks.

 

“What? No! I’m not ready!” Cas starts to struggle as the other angel pushes him towards the Elder Raphael. “You can’t let me go up there alone!”

 

Samandriel rolls his eyes. “I’ll be right behind you. Now _go._ ”

 

Cas takes a deep breath and puts one trembling foot in front of the other until he’s standing in front of Elder Raphael. His hands shake as the Elder hands him his assignment in a gilded envelope inscribed with the name, _Dean Winchester._

 

“Next!” Elder Raphael calls. Cas watches Samandriel bound up the isle, all sweet, bouncy curls and soft smiles as he takes his own envelope and says a quiet ‘thank you’ to their Elder.

 

Cas all but rips the envelope from his friend’s hands and scowls as he opens its contents. They’d made a pact to read each other’s assignments aloud, just in case something went wrong, and Samandriel had won the right to go first through a very heated chess match three months back.

 

“Adam Milligan,” he reads aloud. “Age twenty-one-” Samandriel squeals at this, and Cas rolls his eyes. “Blue eyes, blonde hair, six foot one. Let’s see... He’s studying to become a doctor, he has a GPA of 3.82, and he likes watching movies and reading apocalyptic romance murder mysteries in his free time.”

 

Samandriel squeals. “Tell me if he believes in angels!” He demands. “Oh, say he does, say he does!”

 

Cas smiles softly as he reads the words. “Believes in angels... Affirmative.”

 

Samandriel throws himself at Cas and spins him around. “Oh, Cas, we’re gonna be _perfect_ together!”

 

Cas gently pushes his friend away and hands him his envelope. “Go on. Read mine.”

 

Samandriel grins. “Dean Winchester. He’s thirty-two, which is practically ancient for humans, right? Ugh. He’s got green eyes, so I bet he looks like a troll. Brownish hair... So boring... He’s a mechanic and he dropped out of high school when he was seventeen, so it looks like you got yourself a fixer-upper. His favorite person in the world is his little brother Sammy – awwwww – and he owns a really old car.” Samandriel’s voice falters and his eyebrows knit together as he lowers the paper and fixes Castiel with an almost pitying gaze.

 

“No,” Cas breathes. “No, no, no, no, no!” He rips his assignment from Samandriel’s hands and lets his eyes race over the letters. “ _No_.”

 

_Believes in angels: Negative._

 

“I’m sorry, Cas,” Samandriel whispers, all traces of his earlier mirth gone. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

 

Cas falls into Samandriel’s arms and lets the harsh call of Elder Raphael’s deep voice interspersed amongst joyous cries of young angels opening their assignments wash over him.

 

Sometime between Anna’s delighted shout and Elder Raphael announcing the end of today’s assignment session, Cas feels the big, strong wings of his Nest Leader wrap around him, lift him up, and carry him home.

 

Only then does he start to cry.

 

***

 

Dean hits the second speed-dial button on his phone as he opens a cold can of beer. “Hey, Mom,” he greets.

 

Mary Winchester’s voice is like Heaven to his ears. “Hey, honey, how was work?”

 

Dean takes a long swig of beer before answering. “Well, between that Mercedes yesterday and that 49er this morning... It seems like our dry spell is finally ending.” He eases himself down into his old, worn-out recliner and smiles. “Maybe I can finally buy a new couch,” he jokes.

 

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart. I told you, ang-”

 

“Mom,” he groans.

 

On the other end of the line, Mary laughs. “Sorry, sorry.” A muffled clatter filters through the mouthpiece and he smiles. “I hope you’re still coming over tomorrow. I’m making meatballs. With any luck, your father will save you one or two.”

 

Dean chuckles. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The doorbell rings and he sighs. “I hate to cut you short, but I gotta go.”

 

“Bye, baby,” Mary coos.

 

“Bye, Ma.” Dean throws the phone down onto the couch cushion and groans as he stands. “Probably Kevin,” he decides as the doorbell chimes again. He’d agreed to teach the neighbor’s kid a little bit about cars in exchange for waking up to a neatly mowed lawn every Saturday morning. It was a good trade; he loved his lawn but hated mowing it himself and Kevin was a nice enough guy, but _boy_ was he a voracious learner.

 

He’s already preparing a little speech in his head, something along the lines of, “Hey, Kev, it’s great to see you but I’ve had a hell of a day and could you maybe come back on Friday? I get off at three; thanks,” when the doorbell gives a truly staggering array of _din-dong ding-ding dong, di-don-ddddd_ ’s.

 

Figuring there must be something wrong, Dean jogs the rest of the way to the door and throws it open.

 

Only to find an angel. _His_ angel. _His_ angel, dressed in a white toga, fluffy strap-on wings, and a halo headband.

 

Dean’s angel throws a plastic arrow at him and it misses rather tragically, crashing into the wooden door to his right and splintering apart.

 

“Love me?” The angel begs.

 

Dean’s beer slips from his fingers and lands with a tiny _thunk_ on the carpeted floor. As he watches the amber liquid spill out, he idly that he’s going to need something stronger to drink anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Five Hours Earlier:

 

Gabriel’s heart breaks for his fledglings. This is supposed to be the happiest day of their young lives, and he’s supposed to be scolding them for bouncing off the walls of their bower. Cas isn’t meant to be sobbing in his arms, and Samandriel’s wings aren’t meant to be drooping in sympathetic misery.

 

“Sweetheart, we’re going to fix this,” Gabriel promises. “You’re going to get your happy ending, just like Sammy.”

 

Cas shakes his head and wails. “He won’t be able to see my wings! He’ll never love me!”

 

Samandriel’s tiny voice cuts through his cries. “I have an idea.” When both of his nest mates turn to him, he clears his throat and raises his voice. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but it was on, and I saw... I saw...” He gestures towards the television Gabriel had snuck into Heaven and blushes. “Humans make fake wings out of bird feathers. Maybe... Maybe Dean will begin to believe if Castiel presents himself to him while wearing these fake wings.”

 

Gabriel grins. It would be better if his fledgling’s assignment could see Castiel’s true wings, but this could work too. “That’s my little angel of imagination,” he praises. “I hope you’re both ready for a little road trip.”

 

“R-road trip?” Cas asks through his sniffles.

 

Gabriel nods. “That’s right, kiddo.”

 

***

 

Castiel’s heart pounds as he walks up to Dean’s door. His fake wings itch where they touch his skin and his halo keeps falling down. He’s never been more nervous in his life.

 

He reaches up to ring the doorbell, and nothing happens. He presses it again to no avail and frowns. _Dean, Dean, Dean,_ he thinks desperately. His fingers press down on the button and franticly press, down, down, down. _Love me, love me, love me,_ he begs the image of Dean in his head.

 

The human flings open the door and he squeaks. _Throw the arrow,_ a little voice in his head that sounds a lot like Gabriel’s reminds him. He tosses it in Dean’s general vicinity and misses horribly. “Love me?” He smiles and looks up at Dean for the first time. “Oh, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes. “I bet Adam isn’t this beautiful. Samandriel said you’d look like an old troll but I didn’t believe that. You _know_ I didn’t. I love you, Dean Winchester, and I’d never think you looked like a troll. I just called you a troll, didn’t I? I’m sorry, Dean. You’re not a troll. Love me?” He holds up his arms, hoping, _praying_ that Dean will pick him up. He gives Dean his best smile, the one that Gabriel and Samandriel say makes him look the most beautiful even if the other angels always laugh when he practices it.

 

To his surprise and utter delight, Dean takes him by the hand and pulls him into his apartment. “You’re an angel,” Dean says, mouth hanging slack.

 

Cas beams. “Of course, Dean. I’m _your_ angel.”

 

Dean shakes his head. “Angels aren’t real.”

 

Castiel’s face falls. “But, Dean...” He starts to sniffle. He liked it so much better when Dean was holding his hand. “L-love me?” He wipes his nose on the back of his hand and blinks away tears. “I k-know Samandriel’s better behaved than me, and he has such soft hair and I don’t really look like the other angels, but Gabriel says we’re the best two fledglings around and he _promised_ you’d love me!”

 

“Get out of here,” Dean breathes. “Why would an _angel_ want _my_ love?”

 

Cas starts to pout. “Please don’t make me leave! And you were assigned to me because we’re perfect for each other. You can take care of me and give me lots of love, and I’ll make you happy in return. I... I think that’s what Gabriel said. I’m not sure. I wasn’t listening because there was a bee in our bower. I really like bees. But not as much as I like you, of course! Because I love you. I love bees, too, but lots of times they don’t love me back.”

 

Dean gives him a tentative smile. “Anyone ever tell you how adorable you are?”

 

Cas grins. “You did. Just now. Do you mean it? Please say you mean it. I love you. Please say you love me back. Or, better yet, say you believe in me. Then you’ll be able to see my wings and we can live happily ever after.”

 

Dean raises one eyebrow at him. “I... Believe in you?”

 

Castiel’s wings pop out, dislodging the fake ones and sending them skittering onto the floor in an explosion of feathers. He holds out his hand and grins. “Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel and I’m the one who loves you more than anyone else in the entire universe.”

 

Dean wraps his fingers around Castiel’s and smiles right back. “Hey there, Cas.”

 

(And then they lived happily ever after.)


End file.
